There For You
by AliceRulesMyWorld
Summary: When Sebastian hits Clary, her best friend-and the guy that loves her-Jace is right beside her. Clary loves Jace, too. Things are perfect...If only Sebastian knew when to give up. Some scenes might be M, but there'll be a warning at the top of the chapter.
1. Chapter 1

"Jace." Clary's voice whispered the moment he answered the phone.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Will you come get me? Sebastian…he…"

"Okay," he said soothingly, "of course. Where are you?"

"I just started walking and…"

"Clary." He interrupted. "Where are you?"

"A restaurant in Spanish Harlem. Raphael's." He closed his eyes. Spanish Harlem is exactly where she _would_ end up. "I know it's far but…"

He almost snorted. She could've asked him to pick her up from Timbuktu and he'd be on the next flight out.

"I'm on my way."

Jace had warned her about Sebastian. About his temper. About that look he sometimes got. He wasn't surprised for a moment that Sebastian had ditched her. He wondered how far Clary had walked before realizing she was on the exact opposite side of town from their apartment complex. She was so stubborn and determined not to ask for help that she would've wandered into gang territory and decided it'd be okay so long as she hurried.

Luckily, traffic was good and he was able to hit all the greens. It took him less than an hour to reach her. He went in to find her and when she looked at him, his heart clenched. She had clearly been crying, tear tracks on her face, eyes red and nose still runny. That wasn't what made his breath catch, though. It was the black and blue bruises decorating her face. One was on her jaw; the other was quickly swelling into a black eye. "Clary…"

"How could he have done this to me? He said he loved me. He said I was special and beautiful and strong. But he hit me, Jace. How could he _do_ this?"

"I don't know, Clare," he said gently, softly. "I don't know how _anyone_ could do this to you." He took her in his arms, kissing her jaw gently as if his care could heal the bruise. Tears slipped down her face again and he held her tighter, whispering to her that it would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

"When?" She asked, shakily. It was meant to be sardonic, he was pretty certain—knowing her as he did. All the same, it sounded so genuine that it made him hurt.

"I don't know that either," he admitted, "but I'm here and I'm going to be here."

It was enough, she reckoned, to have her best friend—second up until Simon had started dating Isabelle—at her side to get through this. She didn't need a guy who'd hit her and then kick her out of the car when she said she wouldn't stand for that. Had he apologized, had he sworn he'd never do it again, she might have forgiven him. Perhaps, she mused, she should be grateful for the way he'd reacted. He wasn't getting another chance to hurt her now. And, she thought, she should be glad it had happened _now_ before she was in love with him, before he could pull her away from her friends, before he could make her think no one else could love her. His hitting her now saved her a lot of pain, she was certain.

Jace offered to spend the evening with her but she wanted to curl up in her bed and cry. She didn't _want_ comfort and that's what he would give her.

 _How could he do this?_ she asked herself morosely. _He put his hands on me, he…_ and then she got angry and completely blew up. _He fucking hit me!_ She threw a water glass that was on her nightstand and it shattered against the wall. _The bastard!_ She threw a pillow which was much less satisfying and then a paper weight which actually was rather satisfying. A spare shoe was next—in her rage nothing was sacred. She threw the snow-globe Sebastian had bought her with incredible force. It flew towards the door but a hand caught it. She followed the line of an arm and Jace was standing there, one eyebrow raised.

"This would've smashed," he observed.

"Sebastian gave it to me."

He twisted his hand and deliberately dropped it to the hardwood floor, expressing her feelings exactly. She told him so and he laughed. She loved his laughter. Where Sebastian's laugh had always been a harsh sound, seeming forced even if it wasn't, Jace's laugh rolled up from his stomach. A laugh with warmth and feeling.

"We were fighting about you," she confessed, laying on her bed.

"What?" He breathed.

"He wanted me to stop hanging out with you, but you're my best friend. And it's not the first time he's brought it up. He thinks you're in love with me."

 _Well, he's not wrong,_ Jace thought as he fell beside her, one hand behind his head, the other a mere inch from hers. "He should trust you."

"Oh, he does. But—and get this—"if anyone knows how to manipulate a person it's their best friend". As if you were the one trying to control me, and not him. And it's not the first time he's put his hands on me, although he's never hit me before. He's grabbed me and even smacked me, but never hit me."

He turned his head to look at her and his anger flared. "He's hurt you." He stated flatly. Why had she never told him?

And why had he never noticed?

"Yeah," she hesitantly answered, even though it wasn't really a question.

"You want me to beat him up for you?" He offered, totally serious.

At last she turned her own head towards him, meeting his gaze. She grinned, "Don't worry about it." She laid on her side, propping herself on one elbow. "I always give just as good as I get—got."

"I'm so proud," he teased.

"Just you wait, Jace Wayland." Her smile widened and suddenly she was glad he'd come over, despite her initial wishes. "You will be."

There was a momentary silence. "I could use a cancer stick right about now. Or I would. If I was a smoker. Which I'm not." Her eyes skittered toward him for a second. "Get me ice cream." She demanded.

He smiled hugely and then chuckled and then laughed, eventually finding himself in hysterics. Without knowing precisely why, she joined in. He stopped suddenly and then she stopped, too, though gradually, because he was looking at her all…somehow.

She didn't know it, but he was just thinking— _God, I love that woman._

There hadn't been, like, a ' _that moment'_ for him. There hadn't been anything specific that made him fall in love with her but nor had it been gradual. He'd been falling in love with her all his life, a little more each day until he woke up just…just _knowing_. When they'd met at the age of seven he'd felt connected. In middle school he'd thought she was cute, then beautiful. Her intelligence was enormously sexy and he wanted to deck—and thank—every guy that decided not to go after her because she was so smart. Her laugh had always made him happy, but one day he had thought 'I'm in love with that laugh.' She began to be his first thought in the morning and his last at night. He slept better than ever on the rare occasion he stayed at her house—a recent thing—because he slept beside her. And one morning he had thought, 'I'm in love with that girl.'

No, there was no big moment when he realized it. One day he just acknowledged it as fact—that he had always loved her.

And almost three years later, it still hadn't stopped being true.

"God, I want to kiss you." He almost bit his lip as he realized what he'd said to her, but he didn't want to seem insecure about this.

"Really?"

He decided to just go for it. Worst case scenario: Things are awkward for a couple weeks. Best case scenario: He gets the girl. "Yeah, really. Clary…Rissa," only Jace had ever called her Rissa; it was a term of endearment particular to him, and a particularly intimate one. He had never called her Rissa in front of another person. Though he used it quite often when they were just hanging out, he always used it when he was serious. "Shit, I…I've wanted to kiss you for a long fucking time. Besides," he said trying to pass it off as no big deal, "I'm, uh, I'm completely and totally in love with you."

Her lips curved into a smile, "I never knew…I never thought you might feel the same. By the angel, Jace, I've loved you since I was sixteen."

"Of course. How could you resist?" She narrowed her eyes at his smug tone, used to it though she was, "I was fifteen when I realized," he recalled. "As usual, I win."

"Ah, hell," she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Jace."

"Rissa?"

Not wanting to embarrass herself by trying to raise one eyebrow, she raised both in silent challenge. "I thought you wanted to kiss me."

And then he smirked and did just that.

Izzy and Simon had rushed to Clary at school the next morning.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Izzy practically shrieked. Her eyes, although taking note of the bruises, were mostly searching Clary's own. Izzy was looking for how Clary was feeling, not how she was doing. Nothing in her expression seemed to say she was sad. If anything, Clary looked as though something great had happened, not as though she'd been beaten and betrayed.

"Did Sebastian do this?" Simon growled. He was another one who'd never been on the Sebastian bandwagon. Actually, when Clary thought about it, no one had been on that bandwagon. Izzy was a self-proclaimed 'Clace' shipper; they were her 'real people OTP'. Clary wondered if that was even a thing. Simon just thought Clary shouldn't date—ever. Talk about a big brother complex.

Jace came up beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "The thing did, yes. You should see what she did to him, though." He grinned viciously.

Izzy squealed again, though positively, "You guys are together? Finally!"

The redhead sighed, looking at her boyfriend. "Did everyone know except us?"

"Yep," answered a girl Clary recognized as 'Aline' who'd helped her through chemistry, literally out of the kindness of her heart, who was just passing by, "everyone."

"Um, do we know her?" Izzy asked rhetorically as the entire group watched her walk away, turning in their spots, mouths agape.

They mostly encountered only whispers until lunchtime. They sat at their usual table when a shadow fell across the length of it. The cafeteria went silent and everyone looked up. Sebastian.

Jace stood, moving in front of Clary. "That's a nice shiner, Verlac. Get beat up by a girl?" He asked, obnoxiously fake sympathy dripping from every word he spoke.

"Ooh," Simon whispered to Isabelle and Clary, both of whom agreed, "Shots fired."

"Someone got in a lucky swing." Sebastian shrugged and gave a nasty grin. "But I came over here to talk to you, man."

"Oh, yeah?" Jace crossed his arms, the threat clear.

"Yeah. My blessing to go after my ex-girlfriend. You know, my sloppy seconds."

Clary muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Return fire." She supposed she ought to be angry but she couldn't bring herself to care what Sebastian had to say. She'd already decided he'd done her a favor, and that was _before_ she'd gotten together with Jace.

"Interesting, Verlac, that you refer to _my girlfriend_ as sloppy seconds—that would imply that you've actually had her. But we both know that's not true, don't we?"

Simon leaned towards Clary again. "Under siege! Jace is bringing out the big guns." She nearly choked on her drink. "Uzi gun big."

"Machine gun big."

"Really, really big. Enormous."

"Do we know that?" Sebastian retorted, calm and cool. There was a sharp intake of breath across the entire cafeteria. Jace had just blatantly, _pointedly_ claimed something as his and Sebastian had challenged it. The two alpha males butting heads was not uncommon but it was usually about simple, mundane things—now it was about Jace's girlfriend. Sebastian's ex.

The girl that the whole school knew Jace had been in love with for years.

"Well," he said, only loud enough for Sebastian to hear, making his words sound like they meant something totally different, "I know for a fact _you_ didn't have her first."

He straightened and then raised his voice, "Don't talk to her. Don't look at her. Don't even fucking think about her. Or I swear by the angel, you'll regret it."

"Believe you me, Blondie." Sebastian ignored Jace's first comment, having the sense not to publicize what Jace was implying. Whether because he was sure Jace would kill him or because it would destroy his ego if everyone knew he hadn't had Clary after damn near an entire year of dating was unknown. "Very soon, you're going to know all about regret."

And this was the moment Clary got angry, walking over to the two very furious boys. Crucified Christ, Sebastian. I broke up with you because you decided it was a good idea to knock me around. Now you're threatening Jace, just because you know he and I are together now? Well done, Seb. What a big man you are." Her voice was practically dripping with disdain.

Sebastian leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper so that only they three were privy to his next comment. "Don't you get it, sugar?" She shuddered at what he had once affectionately called her; there was not a single hint of tenderness in his tone now, "If I want him to understand regret, the threat must be against you." His next words were spoken at a normal volume. "You two have a real nice day, now."

Jace moved towards him, fists clenched, even as he walked away, but Clary thwarted his intentions. "Babe!" she caught his arm. "Leave it. He's just… fuckin' _spoiling_ for a fight. He gets like this." She wrinkled her nose, "God, I can just about smell the testosterone."

"Well, that's because of how manly I am, beautiful." He breathed deeply and shook off his frustration. "I will _happily_ show you later." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She wanted to shake her head and ask why _on Earth_ she had to fall in love with this guy, settling instead for, "You mean to say that you _will_ show me later. Right?"

His eyes bulged. She bit her lip so as not to laugh—she'd _never_ seen him react to _anything_ this way.

He recovered quickly and the answering smirk made her stomach flip, "Oh." His hands found her hips and a shit-eating grin adorned his face. "Definitely."

"Jace, we're in public," she said trying to back out of his grip, which he simply tightened. He spun his head and stared at a spot to the side. "What are you looking at?" She asked him, curious.

"All the fucks that I _don't_ give." He grinned at her.

She shook her head, trying and failing at not being amused. She patted his chest, this time successfully pulling away and returning her attention to her lunch. He plopped resignedly into his seat and pouted at her, almost but not quite convincingly.

Their eyes met. _Later,_ she mouthed.

He couldn't wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**So a reviewer pointed out that it seemed sudden when Clary loved Jace in return, which was a super good point that I didn't actually elaborate on, so I'm going to address it here. When Clary called Jace at the beginning, she needed her best friend. She was also in love with him; at the same time, she was in love with Sebastian. It happens to most people at least once, being in love with two people simultaneously. That's what happened there. Thank you for pointing it out ThatOneGoodWriter!**

"We don't have to go to the party," Jace assured her. "I'm up for going to the shooting range or the batting cages." He pointed at her, "I _know_ you've been wanting to improve because you've got a point to make in gym. Which, you know, you don't."

"Jace. You've got girls swooning over you, left and right, and I'm not insecure but I think if I'm really good at something they'll leave me alone, you know?"

"You are good at something. You're an amazing artist."

"True," she conceded the point, "but the only person allowed to see my sketchbooks is you. Not them, not ever, _ever_ them."

He understood that. Some of the drawings—one of him with angel wings, one with a redhead kneeling on the floor amongst books, her face in her hands—should not for _any reason_ or under any circumstances be seen by, for example, Seelie.

"But that isn't the point. The point is Izzy will make me go to this party, even if we tried to ditch it."

"We could climb across the tree, through your window and leave from your house. She'll never know until it's too late."

She considered it.

He grinned at her. In her honest opinion, his grin should be illegal. She wondered if he'd never figured out that his panty-dropping smile should not be the same as his 'about-to-get-into-trouble' smile, or if he had figured it out and didn't care. Probably the second. Jace was not one to be concerned with the opinions of others, unless it was someone he cared about, in which case their words meant the world. He could try to hide that but Clary knew him better.

Whether it was the smile or that she loved him or how many times they'd gotten into mischief before, she knew she was about to climb across the damn tree. She sighed, "If I fall and die, that's on you, Wayland."

He grinned brighter and for half a second she didn't regret her decision. "Ladies first?"

She grimaced, "Why can't you just have a window lattice?"

"You don't have one," he pointed out. "If I want to sneak into your room and convince you to come out with me when you know you shouldn't, I have to be able to get there somehow."

Admittedly, this had been a common occurrence since their friendship had developed, so it wasn't like he didn't have a point.

"First thing's first, though. You still have to make good on your word."

"You make a compelling argument," she said throwing her arms around his neck.

She moved to kiss him, but he put a finger to her lips. "You just say stop, okay?" Then he closed the distance, claiming her lips with his own. She went up on her toes to reach him easier, but he laughed gently. "Let me make this easy for you." He sat on the bed and pulled her onto his lap, straddling him. "Better?"

It was, and in answer she kissed him again. His hands rested on her hips and hers fisted in his hair. She pulled away to breath and instantly his lips were on her neck. He kissed down the side of it, inevitably finding the hollow of her throat which he sucked on caused her to inhale sharply. His fingertips slid under her shirt, along her sides, setting her nerve endings on fire.

Within seconds the shirt was gone entirely, tossed haphazardly across the room.

He sucked on her neck again, causing her to throw her head back and moan. His hands slid upwards slowly and she threaded her fingers through his hair once more.

"May I touch?" He said, his fingers ghosting towards her breasts.

" _Yes."_ If it were anyone else, anyone else _at all_ she'd consider this way too soon into their relationship to be doing such things, but this was Jace who she trusted with her secrets and her life; Jace who she loved; Jace who was looking at her like she was a marvel, like even the Sistine chapel was not nearly as beautiful as she.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, massaging before reaching his hands around hesitantly, fingers resting on the clasp of her bra. She nodded once and he did not need to be told again. Her plain black bra flew across the room as well and before she could process it her nipple was in his mouth. He sucked hard and then bit lightly, causing her to arch into him, her toes curling. "God," she moaned.

 _Yeah, but_ you _can call me Jace,_ almost slipped out of his mouth. His lips and tongue, however, had more important things to be doing.

His hands touched her waistband. "Do you want to?"

She paused, thinking, and his hands stilled. "Not tonight," she finally admitted.

"Alright," he whispered, giving her a small and gentle kiss before pulling back entirely. "Down the tree?"

She laughed. "This was all to make sure I'd agree to the tree idea. I might have known."

He joined her in laughter. "Nothing gets by you, gorgeous."

"I am the smart one in this relationship." She teased. "You're just here to make us look good."

He smirked. "At least we both excel then."

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In the end, the two teens just went to Taki's, mostly because it was the only place they liked that was open twenty-four hours.

"I mean," Clary was now arguing, "I know it's a tough choice but, come on, you _cannot_ ship Stelena _and_ Delena at the same time."

"Oh, but I can. I can ship whatever I want." Probably not a sentence he'd ever said to one of his soccer buddies, she thought wryly. "Besides," he accused, "don't act like you don't ship Morphlyssa _and_ Jeblyssa."

"That's different." She declared narrowing her eyes and pointing her fork at him threateningly. "She actually does end up with both of them."

"I know. You made me read the whole series, remember?" His voice was annoyed but he wasn't, the laughter in his eyes threatening to spread at any moment. He'd been kind of annoyed at the time. Izzy and Alec had both laughed at him and he'd forgotten to study for a test, too engrossed in Splintered to as much as care. He'd gotten a B anyway, but it was the thought that mattered.

"Eh. You made me read Soul Screamers."

"Because it's awesome, Ris."

"Are you implying that my taste in books is _not_ awesome? Because them are fightin' words, Wayland."

"Not at all." He held up his hands placatingly. "I would never suggest such a thing." He pretended to be penitent but his thousand-watt grin gave him away. He was teasing her.

"Wait," she pointedly ignored his jab, "back up. Morphlyssa? Seriously?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That was quite some time ago, Clary."

"Well," she defended. "I _did_ say 'back up'."

"I…don't know what to say to that. You're technically correct…"

"The best kind of correct," she interrupted.

"…but that's just…just…well, at least _I_ have perfect hair." He finally blurted

Clary stared at him, dumbfounded. She blinked slowly and he winced. For all his wit, that was really the best he could do?

"If everyone spent as much time on their hair as you do even Chewbacca could have perfect hair."

"I thought what's-his-name was the Star Wars fan."

She gave him a stern look. " _Simon_ is a bigger fan than I am, it's true, but come on Jace. Harrison Ford. I don't care how straight you are. That man is gorgeous."

"More gorgeous than me?" He feigned hurt and she simply nodded very seriously back at him.

"Harrison Ford, Jace."

"Okay."

"Harrison fucking Ford."

"I got it, Clary."

"Harrison…"

"Do you ever go on about me like this?" He cut in. "Because I'm pretty gorgeous, too, and a bad ass."

"Oh, I see. So you saved a princess from an evil overlord?"

"Well, you're a princess."

"Oh, hon." She smiled. "Flattery will get you…well, most places actually, but you gain no ground here."

He pouted at her.

And thus, she thought smiling a tad evilly, she reigned victorious.

 **Yeah, it's a good bit shorter than the first one. I'm sorry; I just didn't want to drag it out and have it become crap just because I was trying for length.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Either I'm going to write a different story or a sequel to this or in this story, in which shit goes down. It will be a totally different tone. Like, the kind that needs trigger warnings. What do you guys think? Different story, sequel, or just on this one after the Sebastian conflict is resolved?**

"Clary." Jocelyn chimed.

"No. Nuh-uh" She said into her pillow, sneaking a quick look at her clock. "It's not even noon yet."

"Jace is here." Her mother cajoled.

"He's a patient man." The younger redhead grumbled untruthfully.

"I'm sending him up and if you get a rude awakening it's no fault of mine."

"Traitor," she mumbled, eyes closing again of their own accord.

In what felt like the next instant her sheets and covers were off of her. Being that she was only in a shirt Jace had left at her house for the times he slept over—which Jocelyn had forbidden since their romance began, much to their chagrin—this was neither pleasant, nor warm. Then she looked at him and she noticed the way he was looking at her, his eyes dark, nostrils flared and his fingers clenched in a concerted effort to control himself and her body instantly heated. "Holy shit, Ris. For my sanity, please put some clothes on."

"Are you _sure_ , Jace? Don't you like it?"

"Clary. Your mother and Luke are downstairs, but all the same I am five seconds from _showing_ you how much I like it. However, I don't think they'll like that so please, please get dressed before I push you up against a wall and try my best to have my wicked way with you."

"I like wicked things." She said, enjoying his expression more by the moment but donning a pair of leggings all the same.

"Leggings." He muttered. "You trying to kill me, woman?"

"Not until we're married and you have an insurance policy," she said lightly, patting his chest as she passed him. His brows furrowed and he blinked before he turned to follow her.

 _What?_

"We're making pancakes and eggs!" Clary said from the stove, standing next to her mother.

"It's noon." Jace said incredulously, walking into the kitchen.

"So?"

"So pancakes are a break…"

Luke interceded. "No! Don't do it. It's not worth arguing with the Fray women about whether breakfast is appropriate for all twenty four hours of a day. Don't you know this by now?"

He didn't, because pancakes really weren't a common thing; in all the times he'd been over, he'd never been around for them.

"I accept your superior wisdom." Jace said, accepting his plate of pancakes. "Clary, can I have some…"

"On it!" She called, head still stuck in the fridge.

"Is that… _mustard?"_ Jocelyn asked shocked and disgusted.

"Yes." The teens answered in sync, as Jace handed Clary her two favorite syrups without her having to ask.

"How did you even know he likes mustard on eggs? Have you ever eaten eggs together?"

Clary laughed. "Jace likes mustard on everything. If he dipped Oreos in mustard I wouldn't be at all surprised."

Jace decided to play along and slammed a fist on the table. "You know what? That was one time, Clary."

She laughed. Jace was pleased to be the one who made her laugh. He did it plenty often but it was never enough times. Besides her whole face lit up with happiness and he got to know that it had been him to put the happiness there. Everything about her was perfect and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered into her ear, eliciting a contented smile.

"No cussing in this house, Jace." Luke said sternly, his eyes dancing with amusement when Jace blushed.

"Okay," Jocelyn said as everyone finished eating, "You two, out."

"Need some alone time with Luke, Mom?" Clary teased

"Yes," she said, making Clary blanch, "the kind of alone time you have to be at least seventeen for."

"I'm seventeen next month," Clary said, pleased with herself.

Her mom recovered instantly, "Then you have to be eighteen."

Clary didn't miss a beat. "Jace is almost eighteen."

"Out," Jocelyn rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.

Clary pecked her on the cheek and the two teens strolled out the door, their fingers linking out of habit.

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The following Monday Clary determined that her teachers—all of them—were on the path to genocide. What would be the specific term, she wondered. You've got geronticide and patricide…youthicide? Adolescicide? Hmm…

Perhaps she was overreacting a bit but six pages of notes in History, thirty five problems in math, a pop quiz in Spanish and a six page essay due next week for RS Composition had to be borne of murderous intentions. _RS is a college class,_ her conscience reminded her. She mentally swung at the voice, happily imagining knocking it away from her ear. She pushed her hair away from her face and then opened her locker where she found a rose and a note. Expecting it to be from Jace she opened the note on the spot with a smile. Her face turned sour when she recognized the handwriting. Sebastian. Discreetly, she slipped both into her sleeve then discarded them into a trash can, hoping no one was the wiser. She didn't want to hurt Sebastian when he was so clearly sorry, but she wasn't prepared to forgive him either.

She wanted to talk to someone about this. To debate whether it was normal or creepy; whether it meant she should forgive him; if she should ignore it or acknowledge it. Izzy would tell Jace and Si would tell Izzy. Her mother would guilt her into telling Jace herself. That left Luke, who would fly into a monumental rage, or Alec. They weren't close but she was still his kid sister's best friend and his kid brother's girlfriend. Alec it was, then.

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"Should I ignore it? Ask him to leave me alone, maybe?"

"That's up to you. You know him better than I and you know if you're ready to face him or not. Either way, he's obviously sorry, so if you do talk to him, know what you want. Whether that's to be friends, friendly acquaintances or just staying the hell away from each other, make sure you know and that you let him know. But Clary, don't think that you _have_ to talk to him, okay? You need to do what you feel right doing."

"I'm sort of at war with myself," she admitted, "on the one hand I'm just a generally forgiving person and my heart is telling me to accept his apology and move forward. The logical part is saying he's faking it: he's not sorry. And…there's a piece of me that…that wants him to work for my forgiveness. I just want him to really want it, you know? He's said sorry enough times that he needs to prove it beyond a shadow of doubt. Is that terrible of me?"

Alec debated his words. "That depends. It sounds like you're just being cautious but if you're enjoying it then yeah, it's a little terrible."

"I don't want to be spiteful, or angry. I want to be sure."

"That's fair enough." He acknowledged.

"Thanks Alec. You wanna watch a movie?"

"No, thanks, Clary. I gotta meet Magnus, but you go ahead."

Clary had opted to do just that and was about half hour in when Izzy came into the living room.

"Clary!"

"Annabelle! I mean Isabelle!"

'Clary, I really think you have a problem."

"I could stop watching this movie whenever I felt like it Iz. You wanting to take it away is the problem."

"Clary. Fork that remote over."

"Nah, I don't think so." Clary said, settling in to the couch more comfortably.

"But," Izzy floundered, "how can you enjoy a movie whose ending makes so little sense?"

"Perfect sense," Clary volleyed. She still had not removed her eyes from the screen. "I bet Jace would watch it with me."

"Watch what?" Said the man himself, strolling into the room.

"Why Loving Annabelle of course."

Jace agreed to, though he was certain he was going to regret it horribly and she simply started the movie over so he could see it from the beginning. She cuddled into him closely and he placed an arm around her. "Am I going to wish I hadn't agreed to this?"

Clary sighed. "That actress gets naked," she promised.

He didn't mention it, but he'd rather see Clary naked, no matter how hot Erin Kelly is.

Later they would argue about this movie. Jace would argue that a teacher-student relationship was just wrong and Clary would ask how he could ever begrudge them love just because of an age difference. He'd tell her it's the teacher thing and then she'd ask the question that changed his mind.

"What if you were a teacher and I was your student? Wouldn't you still love me?"

He couldn't really argue with that. Of course he would still love her. No matter what their circumstances were; their differences; their obstacles; their situations; come whatever, he would love her with his every fucking breath and both of them knew that.

He was turning into a sap and he knew it. And he didn't care at all.

She was more than worth it; she was worth everything and she always had been.

She didn't tell him, that night, about the rose or the card. She didn't tell him about the miserable look on Sebastian's face or that she was on the fast-track to forgiving him. She decided not to say anything until she made her decision. She was already leaning towards forgiveness and she was almost positive he would not like her decision, and she couldn't let him change her mind or talk her out of it. She had to do this; no matter that he meant well. Yeah, she'd given Sebastian a second chance already and a third, probably a fourth as well she supposed. He'd never before seemed genuinely regretful, though, so either his acting skills had magnified overnight or he knew he'd crossed the line.

That was a good sign because Clary knew Sebastian had always worried he would be like his brother. All the times before when he'd grabbed her, he'd lamented that he was just like Valentine, ( **I know, I know, Valentine's his father, but it works better this way)** a sociopath with no qualms about taking what he wanted and hurting people. Clary had to admit she'd worried about it, too, for a moment after he had hit her but if he was truthfully sorry, and she thought he was, she should forgive him. She'd tell him she had as soon as she had the guts to tell Jace. He was going to be so mad and Clary hated it when Jace was mad at her. Not that she thought he'd hurt her—he would never—not physically—but he was very practiced at the cold shoulder and cruel words. He could crush a person in a couple of phrases. She'd seen it, experienced it, during the only fight they'd ever had.

He'd practically been begging her to go to Pandemonium with him. Kaelie was going to be there. He had had a serious crush on her and, figuring he might as well pursue it, given that Clary was with Sebastian, Jace wanted to be there.

She'd refused, though. "I'm not coming out tonight, Jace. My mom and I are already fighting and…"

"And what? She's a perfectionist Clary and you're never going to fucking be perfect. You can't possibly be everything so you might as well just be you. Let's fucking go."

"Sorry," she sneered, "but I'm also an imperfect friend," and her window slammed shut.

So, yes, she knew what his words could do and she needed time to prepare her heart for the almost guaranteed thoughtless—albeit _unmeant_ —verbal onslaught.

Two more apology notes, a verbal apology and a box of her favorite candy later, Clary knew she had to just do it.

"I'm forgiving Sebastian." She told Jace, conversationally.

The Golden Boy narrowed his eyes. That had been too nonchalant. Practiced. "Really."

"Really, he seems genuinely sorry. Besides," she continued, "I'm not interested in hating someone. It's tiring. And it's toxic."

"You can't forgive him."

"I can. I am. Come to terms with it or don't, but do not expect that I'll change my mind."

His jaw clenched. "It's a bad _fucking_ idea."

"I know him." She said, fighting to remain calm. "And he's sorry."

"Oh, he's sorry. So that makes it okay. He's sorry he hit you. He's sorry he abused you. He's sorry he didn't trust you and treated you like shit and hurt you. But he's sorry, so it's all okay. Are you fucking stupid? Do you want to be treated like that again, huh? Just don't give two shits about yourself, that it? You think that because your Dad left and your Mom expects a little too much and the one thing you're best at is fucking art that you're worthless? Because guess what? Just because you're parent situation isn't that great…"

"Shut the fuck up." She said in a deadly quiet voice. "I get that you're angry but you have crossed a line. Do not talk to me until I say I'm ready. Are we fucking clear?"

He looked away from her as she made to stand, swung hard, and put a hole in the wall beside them.

"Wait," he called out to her as she began to walk away from him, unable to leave things this way. Despite her best efforts, she turned to face him.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I just get angry and I say things. You know that, already, of course. I didn't mean…I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I won't act like I didn't mean to because when I get like that…but I'm sorry, love. I'm so fucking sorry."

As she walked back and eased herself back into the booth, she tried to remind herself that'd she'd expected this reaction. She knew he was going to say nasty things. Nevertheless, she hadn't been ready for them. She breathed deeply. "You don't speak to me that way. Ever again. You best remember this, Jonathan Cristopher, because I'm saying it once. You will never, ever, _ever_ say things with the intention to hurt me. Otherwise you're as bad as Sebastian ever was and I'll break up with you, too. You got that?"

"Hi!" Said the waitress, breaking the tension. "I'm Kaelie and I'm your server. Sorry it took so long. Are we ready to order?"

Clary made the peace offering, ordering his usual.

He smiled, ordering Coconut Pancakes in turn.


	4. Chapter 4

**Debra Williams: She hasn't forgotten, don't worry, but Sebastian's not Sebastian if he doesn't know how to manipulate and play mind games with people.**

 **Also guys: Should the M rated story be a sequel or its own thing?**

"I'm bored," Clary complained, while they waited for class to start.

"Okay," Simon acquiesced. "Six word sad stories."

Clary grinned. "I never saw his face again."

"She's dead and it's my fault." Simon returned.

"She left and I did nothing."

"You're son died a hero, ma'am."

"Damn Si, that's a good one! Um…I cheated on you. Forgive me."

"Not bad Fray," he allowed, clucking his tongue. "There is nothing more to say."

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "I'm sorry just isn't good enough."

"We just don't work. I'm sorry."

"I really did love you. Goodbye."

A new voice interrupted. "If you two are quite done being the next-generation Hemingways?"

"Yes, ma'am." Simon said hurriedly as both participants blushed red.

"And baby shoes still wins, guys." Clary held back a giggle—that had been six words. "Though a point of extra credit to Mr. Lewis for the second best six word sad story ever."

"But this is _math_ ," Kaelie complained loudly and with slight confusion.

That was a pretty good point, Clary had to admit.

After things settled and the lesson commenced Clary found herself getting steadily more nervous. She was going to talk to Sebastian today; to tell him he was forgiven for what happened. And, like Alec had suggested, she was going to tell him what she wanted: to be on good terms—like if there's a pair project in class they pick each other, but they don't hang out or anything.

She had practiced this a million times in the mirror at her house and had finally decided to trust her usual (and poor) method of winging it. How did one go about saying, "We're not getting back together or even friends but I no longer hate and resent your for being an emotionally abusive and occasionally physically violent asshole. Maybe we could be, you know, in-class buddies. What do you say? But if you don't want that, which would be fine, then please have a wonderful life"?

Well actually…

"Hey Sebastian. Can we talk?"

 **LinebreakLinebreakLinebreakLinebreakLinebreakLinebreakLinebreakLinebreakLine…**

"What?" Isabelle screamed. "What do you mean you said he could come to Java Jones with us?!"

"He just looked so sad and…and he actually said, 'I can't just quit you. Please, can we please be friends?' He begged, Izzy."

"Look. I know you are an absolute bleeding heart and I love you for it, I do, but…"

"Hi, guys." Sebastian said, far too meek to be real, although Clary didn't notice. Izzy did, eyes narrowing. She pursed her lips giving a curt and perfunctory nod.

"Hey, Seb." Clary interceded, shooting Izzy a look. "Um, pull up a chair."

It was awkward and uncomfortable for everyone involved but it felt like a step in the right direction; to Clary it felt like they could get back to how they were before, before they had dated, when they were still friends. They could be pals again, maybe. "Hey don't mention this to Jace." Clary mentioned to Sebastian as they got up to leave. "He won't be pleased."

"Does he tell you what to do now?" Sebastian said, though it sounded like he was only mostly joking.

Clary scoffed, "Of course not." _Then again, he'd tried_ , a little voice piped in.

 _Out of concern_ , she reminded herself sternly.

And the matter was forgotten.

Until, leaning against the wall on her bed that night, her guilt got the best of her.

"Jace. You're not going to like this. I spoke with Sebastian today and…um, and…"

He eyed her, "You've agreed to be friends with him."

"I…yes."

He forcibly unclenched his jaw. "I don't think that's wise, Ris."

"I know you don't. But I'm doing it and I know what my limits are with him now. And really love, he's only asking to be friends, not eternal bestie-ship."

"It's just that he's said some nasty things to you."

"So have you."

"And he has a violent temper." Jace fought to keep his own temper in check.

"So do you."

"Okay," His jaw worked, "I'll give you that. But I would never hit you, Ris. Ever."

"No." she acknowledged. "But you would put your fist through a wall. Even if it was about three inches from my head. You know you would."

"Fine," he said, exasperated and offended, despite knowing she was right. "Just…be careful. I wish you wouldn't do this." _Does he tell you what to do now?_ "But I know you're going to, and I can't stop you, so just be careful." _Of course not._

Why was she even still thinking about what Sebastian had said?

"You worry too much," she informed him, shaking off the thought and swinging around to straddle him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, while his tightened around her waist.

"Just enough," he murmured in disagreement.

 **Not quite a lemon. But really, really close.**

And then he kissed her, hard. Almost immediately her fingers twisted into his hair while his hands slipped under her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her back as his thumbs stroked her sides. This time, it was her to remove the shirt. With that, he kissed her with renewed vigor and she tugged at the hem of his shirt. He complied easily, pulling her flush against him.

Clary was amused that Jace was always so careful. After all, she had dated someone for an entire year and was probably as experienced as (if not more than) Jace. Still, she appreciated it. An unfortunate result of his caution, though, was that sometimes she wanted to be kissed roughly—like she did now—and had to take matters into her own hands. She tugged his hair. His hands had continued to roam up her back and she whispered to him. "I want it off." Then they were skin on skin and it was ecstasy. How could she have ever done anything similar to this with someone else?

 _So not the time, Clary,_ she thought to herself. She climbed off him, laying down, and pulled at his hand, indicating he should follow suit. She threw a leg across his hips and pushed herself against him. She could feel what she was doing to him and it made her all the wetter. He gently pushed her onto her back, propping himself on an elbow. Slowly, as if he expected her to stop him, he unbuttoned her jeans. She put a hand on his chest.

"We're not having sex." She said, despite knowing that when she did lose her virginity it would be to Jace, "And I'll feel bad if you make yourself too uncomfortable."

"It'll be worth it," he whispered, his eyes telling her he wasn't lying. His hand slid into her jeans and she closed her eyes in anticipation. When a finger slid inside of her, her back arched off the bed and she moaned. It was a long sound that trailed higher and higher. He vowed to get that noise out of her at least once more and he attempted to with every touch. He slid another finger inside her and his thumb simultaneously played circles, driving her crazy. She whimpered and he tightened his grip on his self-control.

"Fuck. Oh my god, _Jace_." Having fingers like Chopin's wasn't just good for piano, then.

He leaned down taking the lobe of her ear in his mouth, having read somewhere that that was a hotspot. "Goddamn. I like it when you say my name." He bit her ear lightly and just as she was about to come—screaming his name, he hoped—a better idea hit him and he withdrew his fingers, kissing down her stomach. "Is this okay?" He asked her, his tongue sliding across her waist line.

"Please," she moaned, too incoherent to say anything else. She lifted her hips so he could remove what was left of her clothing. He licked her, precisely where she was aching for him, giving her a grin that promised naughty things and returning his fingers to her body he took her clit in his mouth. She whimpered again and, absolutely needing to give her pleasure and to watch her as he made her come, he increased the speed of his fingers, simultaneously sucking harder. His voice was husky when he spoke. "Come for me, baby."

The instant he flicked her clit with his tongue she did, and as he continued to move his fingers she couldn't stop, simply moaning his name until he was convinced she was satisfied. She hadn't been lying; she felt bad, although maybe a little good, about the state he found himself in. She smirked at him before returning the favor and thanking the universe for the fact that no one else was home.

Not far away—like really, probably thirty steps—Izzy was brooding about Clary's poor life choice.

Sebastian was bad news. They'd all warned her before she started dating him and they'd warned her after he wanted forgiveness. Why hadn't Alec just told Clary to tell Sebastian to piss off, really? Izzy fumed.

And the way he acted when they all met up was far too innocent, too shy, to be the 'real' Sebastian and when he'd made the comment about Jace, which she was certain she wasn't supposed to hear, Clary hadn't been watching him, but Izzy, untrusting, hadn't looked away.

He'd had a look on his face, an odd sort of grin. Izzy thought she'd seen a cat smile like that once.

"I swear, I read this book in seventh grade," Jace bemoaned, rooting around in his bag, ignoring the teacher who asked what William Golding was trying to say with his story. "I mean, everyone read this book in seventh grade."

"Mr. Wayland!" The teacher said. "Don't talk out of turn!"

The student in question finally withdrew his arm, holding the object he'd searched for in the air. "But I'm not talking out of turn, Mr. Starkweather."

Clary blinked. "Did you just?"

"I come prepared." He answered smoothly.

"But…but where did you even _get_ a conch shell?" The teacher asked, flabbergasted.

Jace's lips twitched. "Props are very important tools, sir."

Clary did her level best to hold in a giggle, but it came spilling out, prompting the entire class.

"Do you think that is funny?" The teacher yelled.

"I think that's fairly obvious, sir." Simon deadpanned, the picture of innocence, _somehow_ remaining entirely straight-faced, from the front, sending the class into raucous laughter once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**This is probably going to wrap up within one or two chapters because I have more and better ideas for the sequel, which will be very much M rated.**

"Sebastian, I'm not sure we should be friends anymore." Clary said abruptly, having thought about what Jace said.

"Is this about Jace?" He guessed accurately. "Because he's just jealous. I'd be the same way."

She was not interested in Seb and Jace being the same at all. She didn't for a moment like the implications of it.

"He's just worried." She corrected firmly. "You and I have…fought…pretty horribly. He doesn't want that to happen again, is all."

"I'm sure you're right." He said finally, forcing nonchalance into his tone. Did Sebastian see something she didn't? Was this a takes-one-to-know-one situation?

This is what she hated. Jace could say one thing and Sebastian another and they would both seem to be right.

"You don't seem to be too sure." She stated lightly.

"Listen, this is just an opinion, okay? He just seems kind of possessive and bossy, even the hickey…"

"Hickey?!" She had not been aware of this hickey

"Is kind of like claiming property. But you know him best and besides, I'm biased, because I never liked him, so you're probably right." He got up.

"No," she sighed, changing her mind, "stay. He just…worries too much." She asserted once more, hoping she wasn't trying to convince herself.

 _I'd be the same way._

 _Possessive._

 _Bossy._

 _It's like claiming property._

She needed to talk to Izzy. Soon.

But she needed space first.

 **Apparently word is annoying about linebreaks…..**

"Mom?" Clary said, trying to keep any hint of ulterior motive out of her voice. "Can we go to Luke's farmhouse this weekend?"

"Sure, Clary." Jocelyn answered, surprised.

"Any particular reason, kiddo?" Added Luke, a knowing tone in his voice.

"No…no particular reason. Umm…Hem." She hurriedly walked away lest she give up the ghost.

Both adults watched her go, confusion clouding their features. They looked at each other.

"Boy problems?"

"She never did tell us about those bruises. Do you think…"

"Not Jace," Jocelyn interrupted his train of thought instantly. "That happened the day she broke up with Sebastian if you recall. Jace looks at her like she's a goddess among mortals," Jocelyn continued, unaware of Clary's eavesdropping. "He looks at her like we look at each other."

Could that be? Clary had always thought any girl would be lucky to find someone that loved them half as much as Luke loved her mother.

"That's true," Luke agreed, to Clary's astonishment. Just the idea that someone loved her like her parents (because Luke may as well have been her "real" dad) loved each other was almost incomprehensible to her.

She filed that away to ponder over during their three day weekend out of the city.

… **Linebreak…**

Clary only had to avoid Jace for two days, but given their usual pattern of behavior, it couldn't have been more obvious that she was. Lugging around every book rather than stop at her locker and working on a project in the art room over lunch—which she 'didn't want to be distracted from'—was not the norm for Clary.

After successfully avoiding him for an entire day and six hours and fifty-five minutes, it was in the last twenty minutes of Friday he finally caught her. "Hey, love," he said out of breath from chasing her, "did I do something?" He asked, confusion and apology written all over his face.

"I'm not sure." She told him, slowly and honestly, though not elaborating. "I'm confused right now. We'll talk again Tuesday, I promise. And I love you." That was about the only thing she _was_ sure of at the moment. "I just…need to sort some things out." Debating with herself for a moment, she finally kissed his cheek and attempted a smile before practically running in the direction of a bus station. She had taken the bus yesterday, as well, but public transport was still discomfiting.

Too many creepy-pastas took place in subway tunnels for her to feel anything less than paranoid; so did horror movies, and real-life murders for that matter.

So, there was that.

She wasn't a good target for most crimes, really. She didn't carry any valuables, nor wear them. She didn't dress up or look rich. She tried to fade into the background so as not to draw attention to herself. She guessed her red hair would make her pretty valuable in the sex trade but she had too few curves to be attractive and too many to look like a kid, and did not appear strong enough to do much manual labor, so she was pretty much safe from being trafficked, too. **(I don't know; I'm making this up.)**

An old-fashioned mugging just for giggles was the only thing she worried about and with so many people around—including cops—that was unlikely to happen, especially during the day.

Nobody ever said logic could prevent you from being frightened; it just overrode it, allowing you to think through the slight panic which was so natural in situations that made you uncomfortable.

She just had to get home and they'd be leaving for Luke's farmhouse.

 **Linebreak….**

"Tell me all about it honey," the Fray matriarch gently ordered sitting beside her daughter.

"I just feel like I'm Icarus," Clary said slowly, tracing the patterned quilt on her temporary bed, "and he's the sun. Lately he's been trying to tell me who to hang out with and kind of being possessive." Jocelyn frowned, not having observed any of these things. From what she had seen Jace almost worshipped Clary and she, in turn, loved him. The kind of love story people would read about.

"What brought you to these conclusions?" She asked neutrally.

Aware of how it sounded, Clary spoke unsurely. "Talking to Sebastian."

Jocelyn nodded. "There's a little guesswork here, but Sebastian's the one that hit you, isn't he? He's manipulated you in the past. So what you should ask yourself is: if he'd never said anything about Jace would you still be feeling this way?"

"No," the younger redhead knew the answer instantly and, feeling stupid for letting her ex get under her skin and into her head, she mentally facepalmed. She paused for a moment. "I heard you, the other day. You really think he loves me as much as Luke loves you?"

Jocelyn smiled, brushing a hand over her daughter's hair, "Honey, I think the two of you are Marc Antony and Cleopatra reincarnate." She offered a soft smile.

Clary bit her lip, "Didn't Cleopatra commit suicide when he was killed?"

"Well, yeah," she scrunched her nose, "skip that part."

Clary giggled and then Jocelyn's smile lit up the room, "But do the whole madly in love thing."


	6. Chapter 6

"Izzy, I fucked up." Clary confessed, head in her hands. "I let Sebastian get into my head. I let him make me think…I let him play me. _Again."_ She shook her head at herself? How could she not have learned?

"I honest to God considered breaking up with Jace," Clary said, obviously ashamed. Izzy refrained from saying she'd always thought that was Sebastian's endgame. It was true, but she didn't think Clary would appreciate it; she didn't think this was the time for 'I told you so', either.

"I think it's because things with Sebastian started the same way, you know, perfect and happy. They're surprisingly alike in some ways and then Sebastian started making what seemed like off-handed comments and I started thinking 'what if Sebastian sees it because he did it, and I'm falling for tricks again'? And I was falling for tricks. Sebastian's."

"What apology could I possibly give Jace that would make up for me thinking such an awful thing?"

"One that starts with _I'm sorry_ and ends with _I love you_."

CLACECLACECLACECLACE

Jace was somewhere between frantic and morose, and sometimes a bit of both. Clary hadn't spoken to him in three days and he had no idea what he'd done wrong. He didn't want to start throwing out random accusations, at the risk that he'd correctly guess at whatever it was she was angry about and make it worse. When she came up to him at school he couldn't have been more relieved. Now, standing across from her in her living room, and they the only two home, he'd finally found out what had happened and fix it.

"I'm sorry, Jace. You did nothing wrong, I just want to clear that part up. I doubted you. I let him fool me _again_. I let him manipulate me. I let him make me think you were controlling. I mean, he made me see it and I…I knew better and I still…I saw something that wasn't there at a few well-placed words." Her eyes teared up. "I'm so _sorry_ , Jace. I'm an idiot, but I love you. I love you more than anything and I know I fucked up but I…" She looked at him, tears rolling down her face, "I love you."

He crossed the distance between them in two strides, took her face in his hands and kissed her. She relished in it, knowing it had been far too long since she'd kissed the man she was in love with, her fingers finding purchase in his belt loops, hands resting on his hips.

"I love you, too," he pulled away to whisper before quickly reclaiming her lips, one hand sliding around to the back of her head, his fingers threading in her curls. He made to slow the kiss, giving her a few pecks and resting their foreheads together

"Show me?" She asked softly.

"Ris. Do you know what you're asking?"

"Yeah." Not moving away, she began to unbutton his shirt.

"Rissa." He grabbed her hands gently, stilling them. "You were contemplating breaking up with me 72 hours ago. Are you sure…"

Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked hurt for a moment. "Don't…" she swallowed hard, "don't you want me?"

"Of course I do," Jace said, "of fucking course I do, love. But I want you to give yourself to me like that when and _only when_ you're ready and because you want to. Not because you're sorry."

"You think I'm trying to give you my virginity as an apology?"

His silence was answer enough.

"Jace, I am sorry. And this is sort of related to that but it's not because of…no wait, I'm not saying this right." She breathed deeply. "I love you. I trust you. I want you. And I want to show you that."

"Baby, I'm just not sure…"

"Stop making excuses." She interrupted. "I want to be with you like that. I want everything with you, alright? So, if that's not what you want then just say it."

"Rissa it has nothing to do…"

"Do you want me? Just answer."

"Yes, Ris, I do, I swear."

"And I want you. Okay?"

"Okay," he conceded. "Okay, if you're absolutely certain. I just don't want you to regret it."

"Just kiss me. And then whatever happens happens. How about that?"

Despite knowing that she had made up her mind and that kissing her was the same fucking thing as agreeing, this felt a lot better; it made him feel less like she felt as if she had to.

And with that in mind, he kissed her.

 **SO LEMONY. IF YOU'RE NOT ABOUT LEMONS SKIP THIS PART BECAUSE JESUS CHRIST SO LEMON.**

She returned his kiss with vigor, sliding his shirt off his shoulders.

"Luke and Jocelyn?" He asked between feverish kisses.

"Out of the city," she answered breathlessly as he backed her into a wall, his body flush against hers. Satisfied with her answer he separated himself from her for a moment and helped her out of her shirt and bra. He bent to suck on her neck but the angle was uncomfortable. He growled in frustration and simply picked her up. Automatically her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and he pushed against her, his arousal pressing firmly into her center. In response, she tugged on his hair. He stepped away from the wall, spinning to lay her on the bed. He climbed over top of her and while his fingers trailed down her torso, his lips were already busy with her nipples. She took her own jeans off and his finger slid inside her, her back arching off the bed, fists clenching the sheets.

He added a second finger, "tell me what you want, baby." He spoke softly.

"I want you to fuck me." She replied, her voice at the same volume. His jeans and boxers were instantly gone and tossed sideways and he lined himself up. Her arms wrapped around him as he began to push in. He met resistance and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay," she reassured him, wrapping her legs around his waist to encourage him. He thrusted once and instantly her nails dug into his back, an automatic response to the pain. Jace could tell when the pain started to fade as her fingers relaxed and her tense muscles loosened.

She smiled at him, "I think I'm good." He nodded beginning to move slowly, biting his lip when her hips moved to meet his. Their pace sped and the air filled with moans. He hit a spot inside her that elicited an 'Oh, Jesus' and caused her to arch her back, something he loved to see her do. He wrapped one arm around her waist, leaning more heavily on his right hand and holding her hips higher, he thrusted harder. She began whispering his name, growing in volume until she screamed it, her walls tightening around him, the feeling forcing him to drop back down. He hooked one of her legs around his waist and rolled them so she was on top. His hands found her hips and hers found his chest as she started to ride him slowly. He enjoyed the sensation. Knowing he was close, he resolved to bring her to orgasm at least once more. He moved one hand to her back and pushed lightly so she leant over him. He continued until their chests touched. One hand pressed against her lower back and the other her shoulder blades. He slammed into her, fast and hard. She whined in frustration when she found she couldn't move her own hips due to how he held her but enjoyed it nonetheless. He found that spot again, his pace picking up even more. "Fuck!" She screamed, clenching him tightly as he let a string of curse words himself, his own orgasm hitting.

"God, I love you." He said, softer than a prayer, "and I'll love you until I die and if there's a life after that I'll love you then."

She opened her mouth to return the sentiment but somebody rang the doorbell.

"Expecting company?" Jace asked.

"Nope," she said grabbing his sweatshirt, the big fuzzy one which read Wayland on the back, sliding it over her head and then donning a pair of panties she grabbed from the top drawer hurriedly.

"Going to answer the door like that?" He asked her retreating back.

"It's probably just Si or Izzy." She shrugged. "Why? You complaining?" She volleyed with a knowing grin.

She swung open the door, her happy mood evaporating and suddenly she was very conscious that she was only in Jace's sweatshirt; and that she could not possibly pretend it wasn't Jace's sweatshirt.

Clary could not think of a worse person to be at the door, except perhaps her long-lost father.

"Sebastian. You tried to manipulate me. We're no longer friends." She made to shut the door but he stuck his foot in.

"It's about Valentine!"

She opened the door inviting him in. "I'll be right back," she went upstairs in search of some yoga pants before returning with a now-dressed Jace in-tow.

"Valentine is out of prison and then this happened: My parents asked why they hadn't seen you around." He began, "I explained the situation very vaguely: We just weren't working, you developed feelings for someone else, we didn't treat each other the way we should have, and yes I was hurt but understood. Valentine interpreted that his own way. He thinks he needs to get back at you on my behalf or something. He thinks he'll get back in my good graces."

"Why should we believe you?" Jace scoffed. "You don't care about Clary."

"Yes. I do."

"No. You don't."

Sebastian ignored him, focusing on Clary. "Please be careful. You know why he was incarcerated. He hasn't learned his lesson, Clary. Please, please, don't find yourself alone.

"Don't act concerned." Jace sneered, rising to his feet.

Sebastian rose to his feet, too, before speaking a sentence that would leave the room ringing with silence. "Look, I have no idea how to love somebody right but don't EVER take that to mean that I don't love her!"

Seconds later, the front door slammed.

 **Whew, okay. That's the end of There For You. The first chapter of the sequel will be up by the twentieth, hopefully, and it will be called By Your Side. It will also be M. Trigger warnings for Rape, PTSD, Attempted suicide. Do NOT take the warnings lightly.**


End file.
